


overmorrow

by goldearring (leoandsnake)



Series: 28/29 [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Awkward Conversations, Bisexual Harry, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Canon, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drunk Louis, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Group Bonding, Hand Jobs, Holiday, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Niall is a golden retriever, OT4, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Smoking, Teasing, Waiting, body image issues, discussion of Larry as a phenomenon, discussion of fame, harry finds out, hiatus blues, lads holiday, lots of affection, zayn pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5487293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandsnake/pseuds/goldearring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Mmm,” Liam says. He's gazing at Louis rapturously, eyes half-lidded, lips slightly parted. He looks so deeply in love that Louis feels exposed; he can't hide from this in any way. It spills out of both of them like sunlight.</i>
</p><p>
Standalone sequel to the other fic in this series.
The band sets off on their lads holiday, with Harry still unaware Louis and Liam are involved. They agree to put a pause on intimacy in order to hide it from him. It doesn't work very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	overmorrow

No funny business, they promise each other.

For the whole three weeks, the whole lads holiday. No funny business, no necking, stay away from each other, stay casual, don't do anything you wouldn't want Harry to see because odds are, in these close quarters, Harry _will_ see.

They almost break the promise two hours in. Harry and Niall have fallen asleep on the plane, Harry with a sleep mask on and Niall with a magazine open on his lap. Louis is trying to ask Liam a question and Liam can't understand his whispering. Finally he waves for Liam to come sit next to him, and he does. Free for the moment from any prying eyes, Liam hesitantly nuzzles against Louis's neck.

“Leeeeeyum,” Louis says in a low tone, as a warning.

“I know,” Liam murmurs. “But it's hard not to touch you.”

Louis stops himself from going all woozy and tunnel-visioned over that. He reminds himself that this is Liam, who he's seen take a shit in the forest, who he's seen cry blubbery, snuffly tears over girls, who he's seen hunched over a toilet after a night out with blood vessels bursting in his cheeks.

But it's also Liam of the handsome boyish face and the big sturdy hands and the twinkly eyes and the grabby, reverent way he handles Louis's body. Like he could never believe he'd be allowed anything so good in his life. Like he has to get as much as he can before Louis disappears.

Louis cups Liam's cheek with his hand. Liam's lips stop kissing and he leans his forehead against the side of Louis's head.

“It's only three weeks,” Louis says.

He can feel Liam pouting.

“Aaand,” Louis says. “We can't go breaking the rules immediately if we want to maybe break them later. It's no fun, if you do it straight away.”

Liam nods.

“And,” Louis says again. “And. Imagine how good it'll be after waiting, y’know?”

Liam sighs. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Louis says.

He hits Liam gently in the nuts to close the negotiation.

 

/

 

They had asked Niall to name somewhere in Ireland that was beautiful and remote, but where they could still get a pint and some good food.

He thought about it for half a minute or so. “Barrow Valley?”

He pulled up photos on his phone. They were sold, maybe Harry less so than the others.

“What’ll we do?” he said.

“Drink beer!” Louis exclaimed. “Go fishing! Kayaking.”

Harry absent-mindedly cracked a knuckle and looked at him. “Okay,” he said slowly.

“It looks relaxing,” Liam said. “And like - anywhere it would be a pain to follow us is a safe bet, you know?”

Harry agreed, on the condition that their tropical destination afterward is Hawaii, which Louis was over the moon about. So that’s their holiday.

 

/

 

They’re staying at a very nice and very small bed and breakfast owned by an elderly couple, who have exactly four bedrooms total that they rent out.

There’s nothing extravagant about it. It is, quite literally, a large house. Louis is thrilled. He loves the homey smell and knowing he’ll wake up to a meal lovingly prepared. He loves the soft, battered old bed with threadbare blankets. He likes the hostel feel, without the danger of being spotted hanging over their heads.

When they come through the door Thursday morning, the old man is smoking a pipe in a chair and his wife meets them at the threshold, taking their luggage in strong arms. She loves Niall immediately, of course. She knows his name right off the bat, and no one else’s.

The two of them talk for about a half hour. Harry interjects often enough in his charming, mum-approved way that she begins to fuss over him as well. Liam and Louis, properly left out, exchange amused looks with each other.

Louis is attracted to Liam even like this, sleepy and a little jet-lagged and patiently waiting. They’ve all racked up thousands of hours of waiting together, of watching each other wait, but Louis feels like he’s looking at Liam with brand-new eyes all the time now.

Liam catches him looking and smiles a crinkly, tired smile. Louis’ chest flutters.

 

/

 

“How’s things?” Niall asks.

They’re outside chopping wood for the stove. Liam probably would have wanted to join them, but he fell asleep in his clothes on the bed immediately after unpacking. Louis left him where he was.

Five hundred feet or so away a bodyman hangs about, never too close but never too far.

Louis shades his eyes with his hand. He looks out over the beautiful view of the small village lying in the shadow of rolling green hills. “Things?” he says.

Niall splits another log and then sets down his axe, breathing heavily. “Yeah, you know.”

Harry is inside as well. Louis isn’t sure how discreet he’s got to be right now.

“Things are alright,” he says evasively.

“Harry’s baking with Mrs Breen,” Niall adds. “So I don’t expect he’ll be out here.”

Louis’ axe comes down on a log. It doesn’t split straight away and he swears, tugging the blade back out. “What are they baking?”

“Er.” Niall stretches his arms back, clasps them behind his head and yawns. “Pie?”

“I guess I don’t know what you’re aiming at, lad,” Louis says.

“Just want to know if it’s going smoothly.”

Louis coughs and clears his throat. He puts a foot up on the stump and leans his arms on his thigh. “What if it weren’t?”

Niall shrugs. “Dunno,” he says. He laughs. “I’d be worried?”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Niall. Look…” he looks away again. “Things can fall apart without sex being involved.”

Niall nods. “I know.” He nudges Louis’ foot off the stump. Louis takes a few steps back so Niall can split another piece of wood.

“But you can’t say it doesn’t complicate it,” Niall says. “You just can’t say that. It always does.”

Louis sighs. “Are you cross with me?”

“A little,” Niall admits, not looking at him. He fiddles with his watch, unsticking it from his sweaty arm hair.

“And not at Liam?”

“Liam did sort of imply you started the whole business.”

“Ohhh,” Louis says, mildly infuriated. “As if it ever works that way!”

He picks up his own axe again, and it’s Niall’s turn to take a step back.

“Well, it might not have happened if no one’d made a move? I don’t know,” Niall says, sheepish. “Hey, I love you both, I’m not trying to give you a rough time. But with nobody else knowing - someone’s gotta be the bad cop, ‘s’necessary.”

Louis splits a log. “I think we’ve got enough wood here,” he says. “But what would you prefer - we not have done anything about it at all? Be slinking around all twitchy and guilty and tense? Be uncomfortable around each other? Maybes aren’t good either.”

Niall scratches his head. “I know. I’d prefer…”

“You’d prefer it never had to happen at all,” Louis says. “You’d prefer it’d gone on just like always. I know. Me too, sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Niall says, looking relieved.

Louis laughs. “Think about it, lad. I’m with - I’m -” he takes a deep breath. “I'm in love with somebody and - nobody would understand it. And maybe I don’t want them to. We’re still under a microscope. And we’re in deep with each other, for the rest of our lives. In good with each other’s families. We’ve got you and Harry and…” he trails off. “Well.”

Niall comes over and gives him a hug. Louis holds him tightly.

“Zayn -- I won’t let that happen again,” he says, voice firm despite how little he believes it himself.

“You can’t promise that,” Niall says. “And I don’t need you to.”

 _But I need to,_ Louis thinks and doesn't say.

“Lad, I will never leave you. Long as I live. Neither will Liam,” Louis says. “I can promise _that_.”

“It’s just you’re the glue,” Niall says. “You’re the - y’know. Harry and I, we can’t handle the business, or the writing. Not by ourselves, not and sound like we want to. And Harry would never come back if it wasn’t the four of us. I wouldn’t want to either.”

“Niall, if Liam and I’ve some knock down drag out screaming fight tomorrow, and we end it, and we get on two separate planes out of here - if it took a week, if it took two months, if it took half a year, we couldn’t stay away forever,” Louis mutters into Niall’s neck. He smells like Ivory soap and a sweet scent that’s all his own. “And listen, if Fleetwood Mac could keep making albums and keep touring after everything they did to each other, for God’s sake…”

Niall has a good laugh at that.

“I can’t live without his stupid arse,” Louis says. “I can’t live without you either, none of you. It’s been too much, this year, but, you know. We wrote our best album yet. We got tighter than ever. We’ve circled the wagons. I’m sorry that Liam and I… I dunno, got on the same wagon.”

Niall draws back. “You said you’re in love with him.”

Louis gives him a nervous, hazy smile. “Yeah,” he says. “Took me a minute to realize, that.”

“Pretty deep stuff,” Niall says. “Heavy.”

“Heavy is the word, Nialler,” Louis sighs.

“I think you should tell your mum, at least.”

“Whoo,” Louis says, moving by Niall on his way into the house. “It’s warm out now. Wasn’t expecting that. S’pose it’s getting to be summer.”

Niall puts his hands up. “Ahhh, we’ll talk later.”

“ _Later_ ,” Louis says. “Like not on holiday later.”

“I’ll FaceTime you.”

“Don’t do that, lad.”

“Texts get leaked! They’re in the cloud. FaceTime, now that’s safe stuff,” Niall calls as he retreats to the house.

 

/

 

Liam watches Louis over lunch.

He eats ravenously after his morning of splitting wood with Niall and then hauling kayaks from the car to the nearby pond. Liam napped through all of that, to his embarrassment. He was properly exhausted.

He's glad to see Louis eat like this. For a stretch there, Louis’ thinness scared him. Liam knew how little he was eating, how much he was working out.

Then Zayn left and he and Eleanor broke up, and Liam saw him eating bread again, and he started ordering pizzas for the two of them again. They never spoke about it; they didn't have to. He only feels relieved, even complimented that Louis is so comfortable eating in front of him, being naked in front of him.

Liam is rapturous of Louis's body. Historically, he's always been a bit shy in bed, not willing to give himself over to his baser instincts, afraid to take too much of whatever's on offer. With Louis, that fear has shrunk immensely. He knows every inch of Louis's body, knew it well before they ever kissed. He's so long admired the bounce of Louis's thick arse and the feminine dip of his waist and the lean musculature of his arms that touching it all, grabbing at it, worshipping it felt as natural as walking on the grass in his bare feet or lying out in the sun.

He loves Louis’ tummy too. At first that was a silent and ongoing argument, with Louis pulling his shirt back down as Liam pulled it up, or him pushing Liam's head away from kissing his stomach lower and more toward his cock. But Liam stayed insistent, and finally Louis relented.

He still scoffs in disbelief sometimes when Liam tells him how appealing he is, how badly he wants him round the clock. Liam's working on it.

“Wonderful food,” Harry says with his mouth full.

“I've been telling you lot,” Niall says. “You don't get enough of this. Can't get this at Greggs.”

Mrs Breen beams. “Harry was wonderful with the pie. Barely had to tell him a thing.”

“Thank you! I was always good with pies,” Harry says. “Used to be a baker.”

“Did you!” she exclaims.

Harry launches into that story.

Louis looks up, trying to catch someone’s eye, and notices Liam looking at him fondly.

 _No funny business_ , he mouths.

Liam makes an exaggerated kissy face. Louis quickly covers his mouth so no one sees his laugh.

 

/

 

On the banks of the nearby stream, shaded by trees on either side, they set up to fish. At least Liam does. He’s the only one who’s standing up properly and everything. Louis jams his rod in the soft grass and lies down, folding his arms over his stomach and tipping his hat over his eyes.

Niall wades around in the shallow end of the stream, with his hair ruffled and his pants rolled up to his knees. He looks more at home than Liam’s ever seen him.

“Found a weird snail,” he calls out.

Harry, who’s lying in the grass and tapping away at his phone, turns and looks at them in confusion.

Louis puts his hands in the air, absolving himself of an answer. “Uh. Good!” he calls back sincerely.

“I’m only getting nibbles,” Liam says.

“I’ve no idea what I’m getting, here,” Louis says, rolling over.

His shirt rides up, exposing the lower back tattoo he got for Liam.

He has to always remind himself of that phrasing, _lower back tattoo_. He said tramp stamp once by accident, and Louis socked him in the rib.

“I’m going to go take an Instagram,” Harry announces, and wanders off down the treeline.

Liam stares at the small of Louis's back. The text of the tattoo sits perfectly right between his hips, where they widen out from his waist slightly in a way Liam's don't.

Louis moves his head and peeks up at him. He grins wickedly.

“Hey,” he says, in a voice Liam knows all too well.

Liam ducks too late; Louis leaps up like a cat and knocks him over, dragging him to the ground. Liam relents and lets himself go limp, and they tumble down the hillside, just stopping short before they fall into the stream.

They lie there panting and laughing. Niall looks up at them. “Oi,” he says. “You're disturbin’ the wildlife.”

“Are _you_ the wildlife?” Louis says.

Liam chuckles. He looks up at the canopy of leaves overhead, the bright webwork of green against a blue sky. He listens to the stream burble. He breathes in lungfuls of clean, fresh air. He feels good.

Louis leans over and briefly kisses Liam, sucking his bottom lip for half a second, then quickly gets up and extends his arm to help pull Liam to his feet. Liam feels teased.

“You made me drop my line,” Liam says churlishly, brushing off his clothes. He touches his mouth. Louis's kiss sent a clench of arousal through him. He looks up to see Harry a safe distance away, crouching for a better angle and paying them no mind. The cross he's wearing gleams in the sun.

He looks at Louis. For a moment, they share a gaze. Liam aches from not being able to touch him, to whisper in his ear, to caress him.

Louis flashes a smile and jabs him gently in his abs with a finger, then walks away to pick up his fishing rod.

Liam wonders if he aches the same way.

He doesn't show his feelings as plainly. Not since Zayn, not since El. Sometimes, though, when they wake up together, wrapped around each other and bleary with sleep, Louis will look around for him wildly, like he's afraid Liam might have disappeared in the night.

 

/

 

They spend the next few days hiking bluffs, following trails, just exploring. They don't even talk that much; they stand at the edge of cliffs and take in the brilliant view, look at the expanse of cold and terrible ocean underneath them, breathe in the salt air. They make half-hearted suggestions about going out to drink somewhere at night, but come home and go to bed, exhausted from the days of walking and secretly relishing their self-imposed solitude.

One day at the cliffs, Louis ventures too near to the edge. Something in him propels him closer and closer. If he took a wrong step, if he were startled -

A large hand grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him gently backward. He turns, expecting to see Liam.

It's Harry, who gives him a knowing look. Niall and Liam are a ways away, chatting amiably. They didn't see.

“Everything okay?” Harry asks, in that soft and piercing way of his that makes Louis think he can read minds.

Louis shivers in the chilly ocean air. “Fine,” he says. “Just zoned out, yeah?”

Harry nods and leaves him be. Louis watches him go.

They should tell him, he knows. They should. All the people they should tell is the beginning of a giant spiral that spins and spins and ends in everyone who will eventually know - starting with Harry and their mums, and ending in primary school boys who already call them faggots based on their music alone. Who would die of vindication if they knew. Who would mock their fans.

Some of their fans would call them faggots.

Louis doesn't want to think about it. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to leave Ireland.

 

/

 

That night, Liam appears in the doorway of his room.

Louis is curled up in tartan blankets, scrolling through Twitter. “Hey,” he says quietly.

Liam looks sorrowful. The hard year they had, and all their traipsing through moors and over cliffs this week has exacerbated his more saturnine qualities. His dark eyes are rimmed with bags and his mouth is set hard, his lips perfectly horizontal.

Louis beckons Liam to come to him. Liam does, climbing into the bed and curling up at Louis’ chest, wrapping his arms around him. Louis strokes his hair and scratches his scalp.

He closes his eyes and sighs. His skin is humming from being so close to Liam. He wants more, but the walls are thin and Harry’s right next door.

“I wish I could show you off to everybody,” Liam mutters. “Sounds odd, but I liked showing Sophia off to everybody. It was so cool to be with her. It is to be with you, but it’s an entire different ballgame, you know?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Know exactly what you mean.”

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” Liam says.

“‘S kind of why I got the tattoo,” Louis says. “‘Cept no one knows what it means. But it sort of turns me on, just walking around with it.”

Liam raises his head and looks at him. “Yeah?” he says. He licks his lips.

“Yeah,” Louis says. He slides down in the bed so Liam’s sort of on top of him. He can’t imagine that he’s sexy right now; his hair is greasy, he’s full of shepherd’s pie and his t-shirt has about twenty holes in it. Liam gazes at him, though, like he’s maddening. Louis finds it so hot, the way Liam looks at him. He noticed it ages before they got together; he used to stare back, taunting him, all while his insides roiled in a turmoil over whether or not he actually wanted to fuck his best mate.

Liam didn’t flirt so much then as he did nakedly need Louis, nakedly want him. Louis flirted, and danced around the issue, and sat in his lap like it was nothing - and one day it just got to be too much. One day, he could no longer pretend it was nothing.

Liam tugs his sweatpants down and sighs with frustration at finding boxer briefs underneath. He palms at Louis’s dick.

Louis groans with need and pushes his hand away. “We can’t, we can’t.”

Liam sighs. “We could get away with it,” he wheedles.

“Probably we could, yeah, but we can’t get complacent. If we do it now we’ll try to do it again, and that’s how we get caught. Remember how I said before, let’s not with Niall in the house? And here we are -”

“Yeah…” Liam says, sounding resigned, his voice still low with arousal.

“But I want you,” Louis says, petulantly, as if he isn’t the one who made the rule.

Liam leans forward and kisses him, sucking at his lip. Louis moans softly and opens his mouth wider so his tongue can go inside. Liam’s the one to break the kiss, standing up. “All right,” he says matter of factly. “I’m pretty hard, so - going to go rub one out in the shower now.”

“Ta, I will be rubbing one out right here,” Louis says. “Into a sock, I suppose… ‘ve got too many socks anyway.”

Liam laughs as he leaves, pausing in the doorway to exchange a look with Louis - a darting, longing look that makes Louis slide his hand into his boxers as soon as Liam's gone.

 

/

 

Too quickly for anyone’s liking, their last full day in Ireland arrives. They kayak all day on a still and lovely pond, shading their eyes from the bright sun. Louis and Niall kayak together, with Harry and Liam in the other. Niall only falls out once, after attempting to convince Louis he can stand up with no trouble.

That night they finally go to a neighborhood pub. There’s only about twenty people there, but it’s a young crowd.

Louis and Liam take a table to themselves. Harry hangs out at the bar, chatting with the bartender. Niall caught the eye of a fit, leggy girl with hair the color of good leather as soon as he walked in. He's been with her since then.

People do recognize them, but don't seem to care much. No one approaches. The bodyman who’s with them sweeps the room with his eyes, watching for anyone to log into Twitter, to start shooting off a suspicious amount of texts. So far, nothing.

Liam brings them back a few pints. Louis drinks his like he's trying to drown in it.

He looks about as dirtbaggy as he's looked in months. He still smells like the pond from getting out and wading in it to pull the kayak to shore; he didn't bother changing his socks. He hasn't shaved in days. In some ways it's his _fuck you_ to the world, to not look how they wanted him to look for so long. So clean-shaven, so fresh-faced and young-looking. That was the first thing he and Zayn changed when they were allowed to; they started dressing like the smelly angry 20-something stoners they were.

Then Zayn was gone, and Louis had to clean up a little. It's not so fun, being the only one who's rebelling. And twenty-four feels a whole lot older than twenty-two.

“All right?” Liam asks, setting his phone down.

 Louis nods. “Just been looking forward to a drink all day,” he says to Liam.

That's a lie. He's stressed, unbelievably so. He didn't realize how hard it would be to be in such close quarters with Harry, who doesn't know. He didn't realize he would start to really, really wonder how they're going to ever going to explain this to anyone. He didn't realize that being out of their bubble of touching each other every moment and hiding away from the world playing _Witcher 3_ and catching up on five years of television would make him step back and really consider how the hell this happened to them.

He loves Liam. He's never been terrified to love someone before, he's never thought about it in terms of consequences.

Louis never imagined he would think this so soon into the break, but he wishes they were performing again. He wishes he could go back to that time right before they got together, when the flirting was getting more and more blatant but nothing real had happened yet, and every night they could go out and get high on the fans and high on performing and tease each other, then come back and cuddle each other to sleep. When Liam would hold his hand and Louis would let him, and stroke his hair, but he had never come in Liam's mouth, he had never looked into Liam's eyes while Liam was inside of him. He had never felt the earth shake and fall apart underneath him because of Liam's hands, he had never seen God in Liam's face and heard music in Liam's voice, hoarse with arousal and calling his name.

“I think Harry’s been avoiding us,” Liam says.

Louis sucks in some air through his teeth. So they're going to start right out of the gate with that, no pleasant small talk.

“Don't think so,” he said. “Think Harry’s just being Harry, know what I mean?”

“I hope he doesn't think you and I are shutting him out or something.”

“Aren't we?”

Liam looks flustered. “Not in the way he'd think...”

“He'll come over when he's done,” Louis says, watching him. The bartender he's chatting up is his type. Older, rugged.

Harry has never explicitly sat them down and told them he sleeps with men sometimes, but he doesn't hide it from them either. It adds another wrinkle to any announcement Louis and Liam might have to make; they've heard whispers that Harry wants to come out as bisexual in late 2016, early ‘17. Around when his first solo album will likely drop. Louis can see the headlines now: _One Direction All Gay and Fucking Each Other, Except for Niall, Of Course._

Maybe Liam can do another _Attitude_ cover. Louis runs his hands through his hair.

“You sure you’re okay? Want another beer?” Liam says.

“Ooh, since when’re you enabling me?” Louis says. His accent is already considerably thickened by the first pint. “Daddy.”

Liam winces. “I thought I asked not to call me that anymore. In any context.”

“Bit funny, isn't it though?”

“Not to me,” Liam says. He sounds so serious that Louis rolls his eyes.

“Maybe no second pint for you after all,” Liam says.

“Oh, well in _that_ case,” Louis says, getting to his feet. “I will have one.”

Liam sighs and grabs him by the wrist as he walks by. “Bring me back one, then,” he says.

Louis sidles up next to Harry at the bar. Harry pauses his own conversation and puts his hand on Louis’ forearm, covering it entirely. “Hey,” he says. “This is Owen. Says he's looking forward to seeing you on the X-Factor.”

The bartender laughs. “Need someone with a spine to shut that Simon up once in a while, eh?”

Louis smiles at him. “Cheers,” he says, and hands him the pint glasses. Owen fills them again and hands them back.

Louis pats Harry on the back, picks up the beers and retreats to his table with Liam.

They sit and drink in quiet, listening to the pub conversation. Niall and his girl seem to be getting on fabulously in the dark corner; they're kissing and he's groping at her breasts.

“You think we'll get swarmed tonight?” Liam murmurs.

“We’d better not be,” Louis says. “I’ll glass somebody.”

A band gets up on the tiny stage in front and starts puttering around on their acoustic instruments. Louis is grateful for the distraction. He and Liam clash like this occasionally, just as a byproduct of their different personalities and fragile egos.

“Oi, Niall,” one of the band members says into the mic. “Niall Horan. Of One Direction. In the corner there.”

Everyone looks up. Niall awkwardly detaches himself from the girl. “Yeah,” he calls out. Everyone laughs.

“Our guitarist is vomiting his lungs out in the alley, will you do a favor for Mother Ireland and fill in?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall says, chuckling. He heads up to the stage.

Their bodyman comes around and starts collecting people's phones in his hat. “Just a precaution,” he says to a drunk girl who loudly protests. “But either put your phone in or get out, love.”

Louis watches all of this in amusement. “So this is our future,” he says.

“This is _his_ future,” Liam says, gesturing with his glass. “Your future is mister big mogul and mine is… Don’t know. DJ Payno. Mustard on the beat.”

“We’ll see,” Louis says.

As Niall climbs the stage, Liam’s phone begins to buzz. Liam looks at the screen. The blood drains from his face.

“What?” Louis says, his stomach sinking in anticipation. He looks at Liam’s phone.

It’s Zayn. His name is surrounded by red X emojis.

Louis closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and counts out a few beats before he opens them.

“Not sure why he’s calling so late?” Liam says, in a falsely calm voice. He picks up, of course. “Hey,” he says.

Louis starts to get up and Liam pulls him back down by the arm. Louis dimly registers the band playing behind him.

“Let’s both go outside, at least,” Louis says. He hears the nervousness of his voice and hates it. One phone call and the two of them are unsure little boys again.

“One minute,” Liam says into the phone, and he stands up and throws his jacket on. Louis gets his on, too, and they depart into the cool night.

Louis gets his lighter out. It takes him a few tries to light a cig as Liam stands there, a finger in his free ear, listening.

“Yeah, I’m with Louis,” Liam says, finally.

Louis scuffs his feet on the gravel and smokes. He looks up the hilly road at the rest of the village and watches as people move around in the distance, coming in and out of shops and their homes and the other pub on the street.

“Uhh,” Liam says, and then holds the phone from his face and mouths _Want to talk to him?_

“No,” Louis snaps, angry that Liam would ask. He wants Liam to understand him, to fight for him, to tell Zayn to fuck off for even asking.

Zayn has called him a few times; they’ve talked in the most briefest and superficial ways. Zayn claimed to be sorry after Twitter; Louis choked back his anger, said _No hard feelings, cheers mate._

 _I’m under a lot of stress and it’s just I feel like everyone’s against me now,_ Zayn said, _I feel like you are too_ \- and Louis didn’t know how to say - yes, I am, I am against you, you abandoned me, you broke our pact, you broke our partnership, you humiliated me in front of millions of people, you tossed our friendship in the rubbish for some fat twat you don’t even like, you shat on the music that me and Liam work so hard to write and produce, you’re supposed to love me and Liam, you’re supposed to love Pez, who are you, _who are you?_

 _I am against you, mate,_ he didn’t say. _I hope your album fails,_ he didn’t say. _I will not forgive you until you come to me in person and get on your knees begging and make it up to me,_ he didn’t say.

He said, “It’s okay, lad. I do understand,” and got off the phone as quickly as possible. They’ve barely spoken since.

Liam turns back to the phone. “He doesn’t want to talk,” he says, and his voice is more firm than Louis expected. It gives him a warm feeling in his chest.

There’s silence. Louis can faintly hear Zayn’s accent over the phone, but he can’t make out any words. He thinks of all the times he would lie on Zayn’s bed in strange hotels, stoned out of his mind, listening to Zayn talk on the phone to Perrie in the other room, unable to discern what they were talking about. He was just comforted by Zayn’s voice and his proximity.

“I guess it just never occurred to us,” Liam finally says. “You aren’t even talking to Niall or Har - oh, that’s news to me.”

There’s a pause.

“No, we don’t, actually.”

Liam sighs. His brow is furrowed.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like to think so,” he says. Then he laughs. “Well, you’re not talking to Harry, then.”

Louis is surprised to find his cigarette is done. He flicks it into the street and considers lighting another.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Liam says. “I’ll give you a call. Uhhhhh… I’ll run it by him, but I don’t think so.”

Louis wonders if he is the _him_.

“Alright, goodnight,” Liam says. “Yeah, you too.”

He hangs up.

“You're all buddy-buddy now?” Louis says. He doesn’t mean to be, but he is fully on the offensive.

Liam sighs. “I mean, he isn’t dead to me over a few mistakes -”

“Mistakes?” Louis demands. He realizes too late that the third pint has hit him. “No, a mistake’s an accident. ‘E’s been fuckin’ trying it wiv me since ‘e left and ‘e thinks ‘e can keep crawling back, over and over, I’ve ‘ad it, I’m not playing these fucking _games_ , ‘e wakes up in two years and’s come to his senses, maybe -”

Liam puts his hands on Louis’ shoulders and guides him into the alley. “You’re yelling,” he says softly, cupping Louis’ cheek with his hand.

Louis knocks his hand away. “ _Then I’ll yell,_ ” he shouts. He wishes he had a glass in his hand so he could smash it.

Liam slides his arms around Louis and holds him close. Louis finds his breath catching in his chest, and he feels his eyes get hot and prickly with approaching tears. “Liam,” he says, panicking. He doesn’t want to cry.

“Shhhh,” Liam says. “Louis, I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much, lad. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Get _off_ me,” Louis says, but he says it weakly.

“Okay,” Liam says, making a move to back off. “But you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Louis starts to really cry, then. And once he starts it’s impossible to stop. He stands there crying into Liam’s shoulder as Liam holds him, his strong young arms wrapped around Louis like he’s made of spun glass.

“I love you too,” Louis says, crying with relief. “God, fucking… three pints and I’m gone and weeping.”

Liam laughs. “You’re getting old. My old man.”

“Fuck off...”

Liam nuzzles him, and Louis takes Liam’s face in his hands and kisses him. They press against the dingy wall behind Louis. Liam pushes his knee between Louis’ thighs and Louis moans, sliding his hands to the back of Liam’s neck.

Liam is the one to stop them. He puts a hand on Louis’ chest. “Not like this,” he says. “You wanted to wait, and if we’re going to wait, let’s not start up again in an alley when you’re crying.”

Louis sniffs. “Yeah.”

Liam puts his hand on Louis’ shoulder and guides him to the front of the pub, right as Harry is coming out. “Hey,” he says, and looks at Louis. “Everything all right?”

“Zayn called,” Liam said. “Got a bit shirty with me about the holiday. And wanted to talk to Louis.”

“Did you talk to him?” Harry says.

Louis shakes his head.

“Smart,” Harry says.

“I don’t know if it is,” Liam mutters.

“Liam,” Harry says, soft and slow. “He’s a mess, I’m sorry. Best not to engage.”

“Don’t we have a responsibility to him?” Liam says, wheedling, his eyes large and sad.

Harry shakes his head. “No more than he does to us. And…” he slides his hands into his coat pockets, tapping his heel. He looks like he’s considering his next words carefully.

“I haven’t forgiven what he said to Louis,” he finally says.

Louis’ throat gets tight again. “No?”

Harry shakes his head. “No,” he says, looking uncomfortable with the emotional intensity of the scene he’s walked into. Louis wipes his face with his sleeve and tries to compose himself.

“All right, well,” Liam says. “Louis, I - I had thought you worked that out between you two… I’m sorry. I thought he apologized.”

“He did,” Louis says quietly. “It was just a shitty one. Really, lads, I’m fine. Talk to Zayn if you want. I’m doing my best to talk to him more, myself. Things aren’t simple.”

“Look, I’ll leave you both to it,” Harry says. “Just wanted to check on things.”

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis murmurs.

“Always,” Harry says, and goes back inside.

Louis turns to Liam. “I just thought you of all people would understand,” he says.

“I do, I do,” Liam says. “That’s why I can’t bring myself to leave him entirely. You know? I -”

“You wanted the chance to play the good cop,” Louis says. “I know. You always do. And you see the gray areas.”

“If you were to stand here and tell me you wished I’d cut off contact -”

“I won’t tell you that,” Louis says. “What kind of a - what kind -”

He stutters himself into silence.

“What kind of a friend would I be?” he finally says.

Liam looks at him, his face tinged green in the light of a neon Guinness sign. “I’d do it,” he says. “If you asked.”

“I’ll never ask,” Louis says. “It’s none of my business. And I’d like to talk to him too, honestly, at some point. But I think - me, I’ve got to see him in person. I’ve got to be reminded that he isn’t just some prick I want to throttle.”

Liam nods. “Listen, what you said… _friends_ doesn’t really describe us, does it?” he says, making one of his unsure Liam faces.

“No,” Louis says. “‘Course not. But I couldn’t find a better word.”

“Right,” Liam says. “Not boyfriends.”

“God no. Christ no.”

“Partners,” Liam says, laughing.

“Well, we are partners,” Louis says. “But, like. Business partners.”

“Lovers,” Liam says teasingly. He puts his arm around Louis.

“Disgusting,” Louis says. “Please, let’s never.”

They head back inside to catch the end of the set.

 

/

 

The next morning they rise bright and early to fly to Hawaii. Louis smokes two joints in his room waiting for everyone else to get ready and then encounters a frowning Mrs Breen in the hall. He grins sheepishly at her, reeking of smoke, and squeezes by with his carryon.

Niall’s brunette stayed overnight, and he has to put her in a cab while they all stand and watch. She's quite fit even in the daytime; Louis gets a peek at her arse as she climbs into the taxi. He suspects Liam is doing the same behind him and is privately amused.

“Bye, sorry, bye,” Niall whispers at her as he closes the door. She shrugs nonchalantly and waves at him.

“Bye, Neel!” she says, grinning.

They all poke affectionate fun at him as they wait on the tarmac.

“At least someone's getting some,” Harry says serenely. Louis and Liam exchange a look.

 

/

 

Louis is tossing his suitcases on the floor of their hotel and digging out fresh clothes when Liam bursts into his room.

“Look how many times I got lei’d,” he says proudly. Louis turns to see about ten different leis on his neck.

“They loved me at the airport,” he adds. “And downstairs at check-in.”

Louis is not surprised. Women working mind-numbing hospitality jobs love Liam (and Harry). Other groups who love both Liam and Harry include gay men and mums.

Louis points out at his balcony, which is a massive affair that turns from a lounge into an infinity pool which overlooks Wailea Beach. “Speaking of getting laid,” he says, and then immediately winces at himself.

Liam chortles. “I doubt it. Go look who’s next door.”

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me,” Louis says, throwing down a t-shirt and walking outside. He looks over the railing to see Harry lying out on the balcony next door, immaculately dressed and lying on a chaise reading the most recent _Rolling Stone_.

“Hellooo,” Harry says. “Keep ending up next to each other, don’t we?”

Louis sighs. Liam pops out behind him. “Harry,” he calls. “Look how many leis I got.”

Harry lowers his sunglasses. “That is _quite_ a lot of leis.”

 

/

 

They all make plans to go to the beach together in the evening. Louis waits in Liam's room for him to get done showering and tries to catch up on his hundreds of texts, but quickly gets bored and frustrated with the fact that Liam is naked only a few feet away and he can't do anything about it.

He crosses the hall and raps on Harry’s door.

Harry appears, his hair up in a bun. He's dressed for a cocktail party or a gallery showing. “Hey,” he says, looking surprised. “What's up?”

“Want to go get a drink while we wait for them?” Louis says. “Liam's in the shower, Niall’s catching the end of a golf game.”

“Sure,” Harry says.

Louis feels his irritability spike as they step into the elevator and he sees their reflections standing together. He's always unpleasantly surprised by how short and scruffy he looks when standing next to Harry.

“Is everything good?” Harry says. “Not that we've had a chance to talk all trip, but you still seem a little on edge.”

Louis shrugs. “Lot on my mind.”

“Mm,” Harry says. “Feels like you've maybe been avoiding me.”

“You specifically? No, no.” Louis feels like shit for lying, but he doesn't know what else to do.

“Maybe I'm projecting,” Harry says. “I've been sort of absent lately. I'm sorry. Been getting a bit sick of it all.”

Louis knows Harry hates doing press alone. Earlier this month is the first time he's really had to, and he's fielding serious questions about his solo career, his actual feelings about Zayn; those lines of inquiry that, when he's alone, he can't brush aside with a joke or punt over to Liam.

“Yeah, I know,” Louis says.

“So I thought this holiday would clear my mind,” Harry says. “I think the privacy in Ireland was just getting to me, though.”

The elevator doors open and Louis leads them to the packed bar. He sits at the first open stool he sees, texts Liam and Niall to meet them there when they're ready, and ignores a bunch of DMs he's just gotten. He gleans Fizzie said something controversial.

“I do know how you feel,” Louis said. “Once you're away from it all… it's like, we _have_ barely been alone with ourselves in five years. Don't know if I know how to do it, sometimes.”

Harry smiles graciously as an older woman offers up her stool for him, then sits and drums his fingers on his leg. “If it doesn't show up on Twitter, I think this is going to end up being a blind,” he says. “Us at a hotel bar together?”

“Oh, I'm sure,” Louis says drily.

The bartender comes over and Louis orders a neat scotch. Harry gets one of their special cocktails, one with a lot of cilantro in it.

Louis, sipping his drink, looks behind them at the groups of fancy older people gathered on the patio. “Is that Gwyneth Paltrow?” he says.

Harry barely even has to look before he delivers a definitive “yes”.

They're joined in a minute or so by a placid Niall and a damp, harried Liam.

“I didn't get your text ‘til I got out,” he explains.

“Leeyum,” Niall says fondly, putting an arm around his shoulders and swaying them back and forth together.

“I see someone's started without us,” Harry says, grinning. Niall gives him a thumbs-up.

“Minibar,” he says. His Omega watch, improperly fastened, slips off his wrist. As he's picking it up, a tipsy Mario Lopez squeezes up to the bar and starts patting Louis on the back. “Hey there! Long time no see.”

They all greet him in a jumble of affectionate noises.

“You know, I really just love you guys,” he says, beaming. “I've missed you. Great album, by the way.”

“Thanks, mate,” Louis says. He slides off his seat and puts hands on Harry and Liam's shoulders, moving them forward toward the patio. Niall is buoyed along like a cheerful dolphin.

“I need some fresh air,” he explains in a quiet voice as soon as they're out of earshot of Mario.

“Yeah, same here,” Liam says. “Didn't think this hotel would be quite so packed.”

“I had a feeling it might be,” Harry drawls. “I told Todd when he was booking… he didn't listen.”

They get out onto the sand and Niall takes his shoes off and start running. “Thank God for t’ beach,” he yells. “Beautiful stuff, love it.”

Louis, who stole away with their drinks, laughs as he hands Harry his cocktail back and offers Liam the rest of his scotch.

“Thanks,” Liam says, and slips a hand around Louis' waist. For a moment he starts to slide his hand into Louis' boxers and Louis feels a warm pleasant pang shoot up his spine. He really wants nothing more than for Liam to push him down onto the sand and start rubbing him off with one hand while groping him with the other, and shoving his tongue down his throat. Or to take him to one of several nearby hot tubs and rail him. Louis isn't picky.

Even in the dark, though, he's wary enough of Harry's presence that he gently pulls Liam's hand upward away from his nethers and leaves it pressed against his side.

They get to the ocean and Louis sits, close enough for the cool water to lap at his feet but far enough not to get wet sand all over his ass. Liam sits next to him and Harry stands, looking out into the water. Niall wades in, letting the surf hit him at the calves, still laughing.

“Who wants t’ look for shells?” he yells. “The good stuff comes out at night.”

“Um, I’m good, Niall,” Louis says. “Prefer not to step on jellyfish.”

“Jellyfish!” Niall exclaims. “Just nature’s electricity.”

“I believe electricity is nature’s electricity, mate,” Liam calls.

“Don't know,” Niall says, kicking at the surf and laughing. “Never got to finish school, tragically. I was in a band, maybe you've heard of them?”

Louis, booing, picks up a shell and chucks it at him. Niall dances out of the way and points at him. “Aha!” he exclaims. “Got to be faster, Tommo.”

“I was actually thinking of going back, trying to finish up my A-levels this year,” Harry says.

“Good God, why?” Louis says. In the dark, Liam has his arm around Louis’ shoulders and is rubbing gently at his lat muscle with his thumb in little circles. It feels good, feels domestic. He wonders if Liam ever did this to Sophia. He wonders if he himself ever did it to El, or any other girl, and doesn’t even recall.

“Just to see if I still can,” Harry says. He takes his oxfords off and gently sets them to the side, stretching his legs out. “I'm sure I'll be totally out of my depth.”

“Maybe Zayn can tutor you,” Liam says.

Harry snorts.

Louis picks up a shell and whips it into the ocean, sending it back where it came from. “Alright, I'm banning the Z-word,” he says.

“What’s this, an interview?” Liam says.

“Yes,” Louis says. “This whole holiday, consider it like an interview.”

Harry lies back against the sand and closes his eyes. Liam moves his hand from Louis’ shoulder to his head, running his fingers through his hair. Louis leans into his touch and looks out at the beautiful sight of the black ocean meeting the black sky, and the spray of bright stars above.

 

/

 

Later that night, Liam comes to Louis’ room so they can go for a swim in the infinity pool. They’re pleased to find it’s well heated. Louis gambols around like an otter.

“What if I just took my trunks off?” Louis says, propping his elbows up on the sides of the pool and slicking his hair back with his wet hands.

“Uh, then you would be skinny-dipping,” Liam says. He’s swimming laps, like some fitness maniac. “Which is actually a crime. Against the law, Tommo.”

“Even in Hawaii? Where’s Niall, by the way?”

“He said infinity pools freak him out.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that from Dubai,” Louis says.

Liam swims over to Louis and slides his hands over his hips. Louis looks over his shoulder into Harry’s room. Harry’s pacing around on the phone with somebody. He can’t see them from inside his room.

“Just give me a quick kiss,” Liam murmurs. “You've still got me all wound up from earlier.”

Louis wraps his arms around Liam’s neck and sucks on his bottom lip, his ears pricked for the noise of footsteps or the soft _whoosh_ of the sliding glass door. Liam pulls Louis flush against him.

Louis pulls back a little and looks into his eyes. Liam kisses his forehead, and in turn Louis presses kisses to Liam’s stubbly jaw and his neck. He breathes in the smell of him.

They separate and Liam dog paddles backwards. “Lou…” he says wistfully.

They hear the sliding glass door open, and Louis turns. Harry comes over to the railing, phone in hand and looks over at them. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Louis says. He jerks his chin to indicate Harry’s hand. “Who was that?”

“Friend of a friend,” he says. “An arts photographer. She wants to do a session with me.”

“Anything in particular?” Liam says.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, uh.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Nudes. Tasteful… no full frontal, obviously.”

“Christ,” Louis says. “Not going to do it, are you?”

“I’m thinking about it, actually,” Harry says, a little sheepish.

“Bold stuff, Styles,” Liam says, nodding in respect.

“Maybe Liam can do the same for _Attitude_ ,” Louis says. Liam splashes him in the face. Louis splashes him back.

“Enoooough,” Harry says. “Ten year olds… Anyway, I'm headed to bed. Are we hiking at ten tomorrow?”

“That's the plan,” Liam says, wiping his face.

Harry waves to them and retreats back in his room. Louis climbs out of the pool, flicking water off his hands.

Liam gets out too.

“There's a Harry Potter marathon on,” he says, poking Louis in the stomach.

Louis bats his hand away. “Okay,” he says. “But only if I can smoke.”

 

/

 

Louis wakes up the next day with a weedover, wrapped around Liam, wearing nothing but a plush bathrobe.

It takes him a moment to remember if they did anything, and then he recalls that he just ordered loads of room service and began to fall asleep during the movie with the tournament in it. Liam put him to bed.

Louis nudges him awake. Liam groans and rubs his eyes.

“What's the time,” he says in a raspy morning voice that Louis is a little turned on by.

“It's eight,” Louis tells him.

Liam slides a hand over Louis's thigh. Louis puts his hand on top of Liam's hand.

“I kind of _like_ waiting, honestly,” he says.

Liam pauses. “You're not serious,” he says. “You? _You_ like waiting. Mr Louis ‘No Control’ Tomlinson.”

Louis laughs heartily. “You don't think it's hot?” he says. “I've been having some really brilliant orgasms, just thinking about you in the shower or whatever.”

“I guess it's hot,” Liam admits, continuing to stroke his thigh.

“And maybe it's better to have a little time off. Makes me appreciate it more, take you less for granted. Makes it a little more like old times with the four of us.”

Liam nods. “Yeah, Tommo. Makes sense.”

“Let's make it a sort of game, too,” Louis suggests. “So by the end of the trip we’re just mad for it.”

 

/

 

They manage to pass the next week without touching each other, and they amp up the teasing in the meantime. Louis will walk by Liam on a hiking trail and whisper in his ear as he does, always something outright pornographic, like _can't wait for your thick cock in me_ or _can't wait to watch you swallow my load_ , the kind of things that are so unusual for them to actually verbalize that Liam is guaranteed to squirm.

He manages to get Liam hard from just talking once. Liam's getting out of the shower and Louis comes in and sits at the edge of the sink. As Liam puts product in his hair and shaves, Louis tells him in great detail about how he jerked off earlier thinking about getting his hands on Liam's cock again. Finally Liam puts a hand on Louis’ chest and pushes him out of the bathroom and out of his room entirely.

“I need to get ready for dinner,” Liam says, exasperated. He's erect under the towel around his waist. “And you've added fifteen minutes to that, because I've got to jerk off now.”

“ _Fifteen_ minutes? Trying to impress me, Payno?” Louis says.

The door closes in his face. “Go put an actual dress shirt on, Louis,” Liam calls from behind it.

Then Liam gets him back by taking photos of himself after he jerks off - naked, flushed and breathless - and showing them to Louis under the table during dinner. Louis shifts in his seat a lot and has several glasses of the house wine. Niall, next to him, gives him a sideways look. He plays innocent in response.

 

/

 

But Louis soon finds the more he’s completely without Liam’s touch, the more distracted and withdrawn he grows. For the first time in six months he is really being made to continually consider who he is and what the hell they’re doing without Liam constantly by his side, wrapped around him.

The four of them are still having a great time. They go parasailing, jetskiing, snorkeling, he and Liam surf, but by the last week Louis is skipping out on more and more activities. He's smoking more cigarettes, and more of his stash. He stares out the balcony doors for an hour at a time, watching the palm trees whip in the breeze, weighing the options that lie in front of him.

On Thursday they take a small yacht out. It's a gloomy day, but Niall and Harry have diving contests off the side of the boat, laughing and chattering together. Louis, wrapped in a towel, watches them jealously from the bow. He feels crazy for it, but he resents their easy way with each other. He misses when it was simple for him and Liam. Maybe they were a little in love for a long time running, but they got to be blind to it for so long. And now Louis is happier than he’s been in a year, but his lungs are filling up with trepidation.

It isn’t fair. He can never have a massive good without a massive bad. He feels doomed in that way.

Liam appears as though summoned, and sits down next to him with his arms encircling his knees. “Something bothering you?” he says quietly.

It takes Louis a minute to formulate his thoughts, and another half of one to convince himself he should go ahead and voice them.

“Are we doing the wrong thing?” he mutters. He turns to Liam, the wind whipping his hair.

Liam shakes his head. “I can’t imagine we are,” he says. “I can’t look at you and think it’s a mistake.”

“Maybe look away from me, then,” Louis says.

Liam looks hurt. “What are you saying?”

“Why am I being the pragmatist?” Louis says. “Why’s that my job?”

Liam laughs, without amusement or heart. “Lou, don't look now, but you've turned into quite a pragmatist, actually.”

“I hate it, when it comes to things like this,” Louis says.

He looks out at the ocean. It’s lovely and it terrifies him. You can never see where it stops. And it stops, but it doesn’t ever end. It just finds a way around.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Liam says, finally. He sounds glumly defensive; he sounds every minute of two years younger than Louis.

Louis sighs. He can hear Niall and Harry laughing again.

“I want a plan,” Louis says. “I want to decide what we’re going to do. I need to know what you want out of this. I need to know _something,_ or I can’t go on. I can’t let us keep going into it blind. I love you too much, Payno. I never, ever want to hurt you because of a lack of foresight.”

Liam wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “I know, I know, but - not now, Louis? Not on holiday.”

“Not now, then when?” Louis says. “The reason this holiday has got me so -”

A passing speedboat blows some spray at them. Liam automatically puts his hand up to shield Louis’ face.

“The reason this is coming up now,” Louis continues. “It’s because of having some time off for once, it's because of Harry not knowing. It’s even because of our stupid game,not touching each other. When we don’t… my head is clearer. I’m not as happy. The bad stuff comes back in. And I need the bad stuff, Liam, y’know what I mean? Tells me what I can’t live with, what I can’t live without.”

“And…” Liam’s voice is almost inaudible.

Louis lets out a gusty sigh. He strokes Liam’s forearm with his hand. Liam laces their fingers together. Louis feels comforted by his large, calloused palm.

“Can’t live without you,” Louis says. “And can’t live without a plan.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Liam says, agitated. “Propose to you? Go public? You're just dumping this on me now. I'm on a boat, what do you want me to do?”

“M’not dumping this on you. I've been saying more and more lately that we need to address it.”

“Right, but… how? Where do we even begin? And why do you always need to take a run at me without a warning? This really isn't fair, Louis.”

“None of this is fair,” he snaps back at him.

Louis stands up. He walks into the cabin, ignoring Liam’s eyes on his back. He sits and bends over, elbows against his knees, and exhales heavily.

He straightens up, and lights a cigarette.

 

/

 

That night Louis lies in bed with the lights off. He skipped dinner, skipped going with the boys to the beach. A storm whips the palm trees outside, and rain hammers the infinity pool and the wood floor of the balcony.

He had some scotch; too much scotch, he's realizing, and he's smoked almost all of the rest of his weed. He has the spins very badly now and he cried at some point. He can feel the salty dryness of his tears on his cheeks, though he can't remember what he was crying about.

A knock comes at his door.

“Fuck off,” Louis calls in a scratchy voice.

“‘S me,” Harry says.

“Fuck off,” Louis groans. He tries to roll over and his stomach roils in protest.

Harry opens the door. Louis wonders fleetingly how he got a key. The spins get worse when the light from the hallway filters in. Louis covers his eyes.

“We were worried about you,” Harry says, walking in. Louis hears his footfalls against the soft carpet. “But I'm guessing from the sound of it, you're just piss drunk.”

“Harold, you can make the shortest sentence so judgmental,” Louis slurs. “Better make me some bullet coffee, hmm?”

“Oh, you're drunk and _mean_ ,” Harry says. “That's always fun. So what did you say to Liam? He's been quiet for hours.”

“You want to know what's happening with me and Liam?” Louis says. His heart begins to thump hard in his chest, but he feels he has no other choice here but to come clean. Inertia propels him desperately forward.

“I'm not sure it's any of my business,” Harry says. He takes a seat on the bed next to Louis's feet. Louis removes his hands from his eyes. Harry’s face is blank. He rests his chin on his clasped hands. His little finger covers his mouth, further obscuring his expression.

Louis swallows. The room seems to rock back and forth. Between that and the noise outside, it's like he's in the underbelly of a ship.

“Harry,” he says, his voice scared and small. He feels nineteen again.

“Louis, what is it?” Harry says. He sounds suddenly more serious and compassionate than before. He puts a hand on Louis's calf.

Louis wonders if he can even begin to find the words, and as he's wondering, they fall out of his mouth. “Liam and I’ve been sleeping together,” he says.

Harry laughs, and then he waits.

Louis waits too. His head is now pounding along with his heart.

The smile slides off Harry’s face. “That's not funny,” he says.

“No,” Louis agrees. “It isn't.”

Harry stares at him, eyebrows knit.

Louis is hit with an unbearable wave of nausea. He leans off the bed and vomits onto the floor. The acid burns in his nostrils.

Harry stands. “Not funny,” he repeats.

Louis lies back and rolls over onto his stomach. He expected to feel panic or regret or terror, but all he feels is a flat tingling numbness.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “Harry, I really am.”

He turns. Harry's face is like stone.

“I'm in love with him,” Louis says, his voice choked up.

Harry's nostrils flare. “Wait here,” he snaps, and leaves the room.

Louis closes his eyes again. Against all reason, he hopes Harry just doesn't come back. He wants to fall asleep, and then to sleep forever.

But Harry does come back. He hears him talking in the hallway, and he hears Liam, who sounds confused.

Harry unlocks his door again. Louis rolls over to face them, then squeezes the sheets in his fists to fight off the nausea.

“Louis, tell him what you told me,” Harry says, his voice like a bone saw.

Liam's face falls instantly. “ _Louis_ ,” he says, both reproachful and horrified.

Louis leans forward into his hands. “I'm sorry,” he says. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

He starts to fade out again. Liam's voice reaches him as if from a great distance. “What exactly did you tell him?”

Louis groans in response. He's afraid if he tries to speak, he’ll vomit again.

“He told me you're sleeping together,” Harry says sharply. “He said he's in love with you.”

Liam inhales deeply and gives a great, burdened sigh. “Harry...” he murmurs.

“So it's true?” Harry says. “This isn't some stupid prank. How - I don't understand?”

Louis is so, so tired.

“Let's get him out for some fresh air,” Liam says. “We can talk on the beach, all right?”

“Good idea. I'll start the Keurig,” Harry says, and Louis hears footsteps again.

Liam sits next to Louis on the bed and starts stroking his hair and back. “Louis, why tonight?” he says. He's clearly upset.

Louis shakes his head. “I had to,” he says, slurring.

 

/

 

Louis passes out before he can drink the coffee Harry makes. Liam picks him up, and throws a blanket over his shoulder as well.

They walk to the elevator together. Luckily, no one is around.

“He's just asleep, right?” Harry says, sounding worried. He’s brought the coffee along in a thermos. Liam feels a pang of fondness for him.

“Yep, he's snoring a little,” Liam says. He sighs. Harry woke him out of a sound sleep, and he still can't shake the feeling that this is a dream.

Harry taps his foot as they wait for the elevator. Liam's biceps, strained from jet-skiing, begin to ache even from the negligible weight of Louis in his arms.

The doors open and Liam squats and gently sets Louis down. Louis mumbles, turning his face to press his cheek against the cool wall of the elevator. Liam strokes his hair again. His fringe is damp with sweat; he looks peaked and awful.

“I still can't believe this,” Harry says.

Liam stands and turns to him, folding his arms. “Harry, I never wanted you to find out this way, honest,” he says. “I wanted to sit you down and build up to it and explain it properly. I didn't realize it was weighing on him this much.”

“Yeah, what happened here?” Harry says. “I haven't seen him like this in at least a year.”

Liam breathes out. “He's been having a hard time, and we argued earlier today,” he says. “He sort of gave me an ultimatum. He thinks we went into this too recklessly.”

“Did you?” Harry says. “When did this start, or do I even want to know?”

Liam winces and looks away. “November,” he says.

Harry stares at him, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed.

“November,” he repeats. “Liam, it's April.”

“I know,” Liam says. “I know.”

The door opens.

Harry stalks out, scans the hallway, then wheels back around to them. “No one,” he says.

Liam nods and gets his arms under Louis again. Louis groans and his head lolls. He's dead weight.

“Louis,” Liam whispers, patting his face. “Wake up a little. Louis.”

Louis breathes in through his nose and slumps to the side, then lifts himself up weakly. Liam helps him and then when he stumbles, picks him up in his arms. Louis grabs his bicep. “Sorry,” he says again.

“No sorries, love,” Liam says, very softly. “I've screwed up as well here. Let's get you some fresh air.”

He carries him out, led by Harry. The storm has passed and the beach is wet and strewn with palm leaves and detritus. The sky is dark, but casting an eerie yellow light on the beach. Liam feels like he's walking into a new world.

They settle at the edge of the beach. Liam sets Louis down and wraps the blanket around his shoulders.

“Need to puke again?” he asks.

Louis shakes his head. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, but he's awake now. Liam takes the thermos of coffee from Harry and hands it to him.

Harry walks away from them, barefoot into the surf. He stands with his hands in his pockets. He's nothing more than a silhouette against the strange sky.

Liam walks up to him. They stand shoulder to shoulder. Liam feels older than usual.

“I don't even know what to say,” he begins.

“Well, helpfully, I have some questions,” Harry says.

If the situation were different, Liam would laugh at that.

“First,” Harry says. “Neither of you are attracted to men.”

Liam heaves out a breath. “Well…”

Harry turns toward him in great surprise. “Liam,” he says.

Liam turns to look at Louis. He's sitting with his head in his hands, not seeming to take any notice of their conversation.

“I haven't said anything to Louis, but the way I’ve always felt about him... physically… I've felt that way before sometimes, about other men,” Liam says. “Just always thought I was appreciating them, or jealous, or something. I thought actual attraction was universes away. But Louis… I realized I really wanted to be with him. And that’s made me question some things.”

Harry whistles, which is unlike him. “Okay,” he says. “If you need to talk…”

“Maybe at some point,” Liam says. “This is all new to me.”

“But it's been going on for six months,” Harry says.

“Right, but… I don't really know how to explain the mentality. But we were in such a bubble for a while, we didn’t have to think about it too hard. Niall only found out last month.”

Harry nods and runs his hand through his hair. “I was going to ask if Niall knew,” he says. “Was sort of hoping he didn't. Oh well.”

“If if makes you feel any better, Zayn doesn’t and won't unless we go public,” Liam says, and laughs sharply. “Although sometimes I get the feeling the only thing that stops Louis from calling to rub it in his face is fear of retaliation. You know, Zayn outing it to the press.”

“Zayn wouldn't,” Harry says. “He'd do a lot of things, but not that.”

“Well, try telling that to Louis.”

Harry sighs. “So… you're genuinely attracted to each other.”

“Really and truly.”

“I thought you were just attached at the hip. Just gotten really close,” Harry says. “Sometimes it seemed a little much, but you two do everything with a lot of, I don't know... gusto? There's a ten dollar word.” He kicks at the sand.

“That's how it was before,” Liam said. “I guess we just got to a point where we couldn't ignore how it had become more than that. That we loved each other enough that it created the attraction, or something. I don't know. I don't really care to know.”

“How did Niall find out?”

“Oh, entirely by accident,” Liam assures him. A chilly wind comes off the ocean and he shivers.

“I was hoping you'd say that,” Harry says, kicking at some sand. He turns and looks at Louis. “You all right?” he calls above the wind.

“Cheers,” Louis calls back, giving them a very weak thumbs up. He's lit a cigarette while they were talking.

Harry turns back to the water and shakes his head. “I don't know why he does this,” he murmurs.

“Goes overboard?” Liam says. “It's just who he is sometimes, you know that. So, yeah - Niall walked in on us, is what happened.”

Harry makes a face. “Eesh,” he says.

“Yep,” Liam says. “And then after that, we weren't sure how to tell you. But so far, you're the only ones who know.”

“I thought so.”

“It's been a burden,” Liam says. “I think it just got to Louis after a while, maybe more than it did me.”

“I saw him acting strange in Ireland,” Harry said. “I thought it was just from the break, or from Zayn, or a girl thing or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Liam says. He scuffs his shoes in the sand. “Now you know.”

Harry nods. “Now I know.”

 

/

 

Louis chainsmokes while he and Harry sit and talk for a while by themselves. Liam leaves them to it, walking up and down the beach. He doesn't need to know what they're saying. He's sure the Larry issue factors into it heavily, and the rest of them have always done their best to tiptoe around that when they can.

When they've finished, Liam herds Louis back to his room. He's still worn out and wobbly on his feet like a foal. They part ways with Harry, promising the three of them will sit down and talk again soon.

After they clean up, Liam helps Louis into bed and he gestures for Liam to join him. He takes his trousers, watch and shirt off and they snuggle up together. Louis rests his head against Liam's chest. “I am the worst person in the world,” he mutters.

“Nooo,” Liam exclaims. “The best, Louis, the best. My favorite. Okay?”

“Well, I can't help that you've got awful taste, lad.”

Liam laughs and then takes in a breath. “I kind of thought,” he says. “Um, don't get mad, please, ‘cos I know it's stupid. But I kind of was afraid maybe you’d figured out you weren't really attracted to me, and that's why you wanted a break.”

“Oh, _Leeyum_ ,” Louis says. “Please, c’mon, lad. Give me some credit.”

“I know,” Liam says, holding him closer. “I just worry.”

Louis tips his head up and kisses him deeply on the mouth. Thankfully, he only tastes like toothpaste.

They pull back and Liam gently runs his fingers through Louis’ hair, then strokes his cheek. Louis holds onto his wrist.

“I'm sorry we argued,” he says.

“I think we needed to,” Liam says. “I think you're right. We couldn't keep going that way, it would have burned us out. I wish we could have told Harry in a better way, but it is what it is.”

Louis grins and taps his chest piece. “Exactly,” he says.

Liam laughs. They snuggle deeper under the covers, and drift off holding onto each other.

 

 

/

 

“You're a bit hungover,” Niall says observantly.

They're at breakfast, waiting for Liam and Harry.

 Louis runs his hands through his hair. It stands up on end. “A bit,” he says.

“So what happened last night?” Niall says. “Harry came by around three and watched me play FIFA for an hour, said he couldn't sleep and he'd been over with you guys, but nothing else.”

“Why were you playing FIFA at three?” Louis mutters.

“Mate, you know I never sleep,” Niall says with a mouthful of bacon.

Louis rests his cheek on his upturned fist. “We told Harry,” he says.

“Told him what,” Niall says, sticking a spoon in Louis’ plate of French Toast. Louis slaps his hand and they get in a small wrestling match. A woman dining at the table next to them turns and gives them an admonishing look. Louis smiles falsely at her and releases Niall’s arm.

Niall gasps in realization. “Wait, you told him… y’know, what you told me? Or what I found out about, I mean? Criminy.”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “We didn't plan it. I was drunk.”

Niall nods. “It happens,” he says.

Harry and Liam appear, weaving through the crowds of tables. “Hello, hello,” Harry says.

“So I'm filled in now,” Niall says, gesturing with his fork. “About the… you know. Last night.”

Harry sighs. “Couldn't wait for us, Louis?”

“Didn't see the point,” Louis says. He looks at Liam, who he notices looks handsome in an exhausted way. He looks back at Louis and mouths _cool it._ Louis rolls his eyes.

“Well, least we're all on the same page now,” Niall says. “Now you've just got to tell Zayn,” he adds, with the apologetic demeanor of someone who knows he's cracking a shitty joke.

Louis stabs a potato wedge with his fork. “Ha, ha!” he says, in a truly terrifying way.

“I think we'd all benefit from sitting down and discussing PR strategy,” Harry says. “You know, worst case scenarios, etc.”

Louis freezes. “We're not telling a rep, are we?”

“Nooo, just amongst ourselves,” Harry says. “We understand it enough by now.”

“They're going to kill us, though, if this gets out somehow and we didn't let them know so they could plan some spin control,” Liam says. “They get mad enough when one of us gets a new tattoo without saying anything.”

Louis thinks back to getting snippy emails about his surprise tramp stamp.

“Yeah, they would. But let's plan a meeting just us, to start with,” he says.

“We should do it on the golf course,” Niall says. “Like big executives. Like _Mad Men_.”

“Niall, I don't remember any golf course scenes in _Mad Men_?” Liam says.

“Now Liam,” Louis says. “How come you've got time to watch _Mad Men_ and not _Homeland_?”

Harry laughs. Liam, grinning, balls up a napkin and throws it at Louis, who deftly ducks it.

“He _hasn't_ watched _Mad Men,_ though,” Niall says. “He doesn't remember the golf scenes.”

“I think it's you who hasn't actually seen _Mad Men_ , lad,” Liam says. He clasps his hands and leans forward, as if he's about to start praying. “So… are we all alright, then? This isn't the end of the world? We haven't gone and fucked things to oblivion?”

Louis watches Harry and Niall. Harry swallows a sip of water and clears his throat. Niall leans his mouth against his fist and looks to Harry for a cue.

“We’re okay,” Harry says finally, his voice low. The buzz of the room has subsided slightly and they've all gotten more aware of prying eyes and ears. “It's like - well, we love you. Right?”

“Right,” Niall says immediately. He stretches an arm out to rest on the back of Louis’ chair.

“I'm still a little shocked, I won't hedge,” Harry says, in his ponderous way. “Niall’s had more time with the idea… but it doesn’t matter. I know us. I know we can get through this, regardless.”

Louis grins and holds his champagne flute up. They all toast him.

“To five more years,” he says.

“To five more years,” they echo.

 

/

 

Their jet has a planned stopover in New York City, because they're tired of twenty hour plane rides. They get rooms in a hotel that overlooks Times Square and Louis joins Liam in his, which has a better view. They smoke the last of Louis's weed together and stare out at the glaring bright lights and bustling streets underneath them, petting each other and lazily kissing.

“God, I've missed you,” Louis says as he looks up from sucking a mark onto the skin over Liam's ribs.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you when we get home,” Liam murmurs, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Louis presses his face against Liam's stomach like a headbutting goat. Liam's fingers feel so good on his scalp.

“Want you to fuck me,” Louis murmurs. “Want you to bounce me on your lap and take me from behind and poun’ me ‘til I go hoarse screaming your name. Want you to pull my hair. Want you to suck my cock and gag on it and say my name with your mouth full of my come…”

Liam lets out a frustrated little whine and writhes underneath him, grabbing at his thighs. “And?”

“And I want to lick your arse… I want you to get so hard from me licking your arse that you roll me over and fuck the shit out of me again.”

Liam groans and rolls to the left slightly. He's good and hard now. Louis is a little hard himself, and grinning like a maniac.

“Want any of that repeated?” he murmurs.

“Nooo,” Liam says. “I want _you…_ God, I want you.”

“You could have me,” Louis says, straddling him. “But you could also have me tomorrow night in London, in my own living room, in my own bed, and I can scream all I want and yell -” he adopts a breathy voice for this “- _fuck me Liam, fuck me raw_ and no one will be the wiser -”

“Stop,” Liam begs him.

Louis cups his face with his hand. “Really stop? Or like -”

“Really,” Liam says. “I'm going to go jerk off now.”

He sits up and kisses Louis on the nose, then goes to take a shower. Louis plays idly with his own slowly subsiding erection as he waits.

 

/

 

Louis tries to rest as much on the jet as he can, and carb load like he’s getting ready for a football game. He’s in the kitchen heating up some unbuttered popcorn when Liam comes in.

Liam sneaks up behind him and presses up against him, pushing him against the counter. He slides his hands over Louis’ waist. Louis leans back into him. He loves how solid Liam is.

“Can I have some popcorn?” Liam mutters.

Louis laughs. “If you insist, but it’s not movie butter. No butter at all, actually.”

Liam groans. “What’s the point?” he says, and starts kissing Louis’ neck. Louis leans into that touch as well, closing his eyes. Liam starts to suck gently at the skin right below his ear. He rolls his shoulders in a shiver.

“Oh!” he hears Harry’s voice yell.

They leap apart. Harry is standing there with his hands on his hips, eyes closed.

“It’s too soon for this,” Harry says, aggrieved. “I’m sorry, but it really is.”

“Nothing’s happening!” Louis says, a little too loudly.

“I thought you were asleep,” Liam exclaims. He has his hands up in the air like he's being arrested, which Louis thinks is a little much.

“I _was_ ,” Harry says. “I woke up to you crashing around in the cabin when you got up.”

“Haz, I'm so sorry,” Liam says. “We weren't trying to be gross.”

Louis finds he's gone slightly mad with pent up sexual need and this is causing him to be unusually resentful of Harry in this moment. In the megalomaniacal tradition of people who have access to really great sex with someone they love, he feels slighted by any outside suggestion that he and Liam should exercise propriety.

Liam has no such megalomaniac tendencies. He looks actually remorseful as Harry waves a hand in rapprochement and leaves them to return to the cabin, a Fiji water in hand.

Louis closes the space between them and gently bops Liam in the dick. “Tonight,” he mouths, and follows Harry out.

 

/

 

They break into a pair of twosomes and make their way through Heathrow, being photographed from every angle as usual. At this point in his life, Louis barely hears the clatter of shutters and flashes anymore. Liam walks behind him, led by him, holding onto the back of his sweatshirt.

Louis thinks about how strange it is that both Harry and Niall left the airport knowing that he and Liam were going home together, probably expecting they would be intimate later. He’s not sure how he feels about that.

They finally make it to the safety of the limo and the door shuts crisply behind them, immediately turning the noise outside from a deafening roar into a dull one.

Louis immediately hits the button for the partition to go up.

“C’mere,” Liam murmurs, pulling Louis into his lap. “C’mere, c’mere...”

They kiss desperately. Louis pulls Liam’s button-down apart and pulls his own sweatshirt over his head. He sucks hard at Liam’s upper lip, rolling his hips in Liam’s lap, and Liam makes a soft noise at the back of his throat and slides his hands into Louis’ hair.

Louis nuzzles against his neck and sucks on his throat, hard, intending to leave a mark. Liam either doesn’t care or is too blissed-out to protest; he yanks at Louis’ jeans, pulling them down so he can grope Louis’ ass.

He’s eager but too gentle and Louis grabs him hard by the jaw and says “harder, _harder_ ,” sliding a hand over Liam’s and squeezing it for him. Liam seizes on Louis’ ass with the iron grip Louis loves so much and Louis rewards him with an overwrought moan that makes Liam’s hips jerk up.

“Maybe let’s save it for home?” Liam says, pulling away from Louis for a second. His eyes are unfocused and his lips are swollen, and a hickey is blooming on his neck already.

“There’s a lot more where this came from, Payno,” Louis says in a scratchy voice, with his hands on Liam’s chest. He starts to move on Liam’s lap again, slower and more deliberately this time. He can feel how hard Liam is already. He’s hard, too, but in this position he’s got more control.

Liam tips his head back and his eyelids flutter; his lip twitches. “Louis, Louis,” he groans. “You’re going to make me come…”

“Want you to come, love,” Louis says, riding him harder through his pants. He grinds down on Liam with his palm as well. “Come as much as you want tonight.”

“Here?” Liam says, his breath hitching. “In - in my trousers?” He runs his hands up and down Louis’ body before settling on his thighs and squeezing them. Louis makes an appreciative sound.

“Right here,” he says. “Show me how much you want me.”

The limo goes around a corner, surprising both of them. Liam allows them to slide onto their sides in the seats, and he rolls over with Louis on top of him. They laugh, breaking the tension, and Louis slides his thigh between Liam’s legs and starts to rub it against his clothed cock. Liam groans and fists a hand in Louis’ hair again, this time really pulling on it. Louis gasps with satisfaction and resists the urge to touch his own cock.

“Louis,” Liam says softly, reverently. “Louis, Louis…”

With dogged determination, Louis continues to rub his thigh against Liam’s crotch. He takes Liam’s hand in his own and slides it under his jeans and briefs, over the bare skin of his ass. Liam’s hand squeezes him again.

The hand that was pulling Louis’ hair slides down and cups his face.

“You’re perfect,” Liam murmurs, then shudders and gasps as he comes. Louis feels the wet spot spreading against his knee and pleasure surges in him. Liam holds him tighter, pushes against him as he rides the rippling wave of orgasm.

“I love you,” Liam says, with his lips pressed to Louis’ cheek. Their facial hair rubs together; the discomfort of it is satisfying and grounding.

“I love you, Liam,” Louis says softly, and he kisses him again.

They lie there holding onto each other, feeling London go by as the limo stops in traffic and rolls over cobblestones. Louis is unbelievably aroused, but he bears down against it, staving it off. He so badly wants to come in Liam’s mouth, and he can’t do that in the five or so minutes they have left in their ride.

Liam begins to recover from his orgasm and starts rubbing against Louis again and groping at his thighs and arse.

“Liam, we have to get out of the car soon,” Louis says, giggling.

“Don’t care,” Liam mumbles. His eyelids are heavy over his dark, lash-fringed eyes and his mouth is appealingly pink from kissing. “I’ll fuck you on the sidewalk.”

“You absolutely will _not_ do that,” Louis says, extricating himself so his hard-on can subside a little. “Can’t let you make the paps that happy.”

“Oh shit, are there going to be any?” Liam says, his eyes suddenly wide. “Do I look all… you know?”

Louis takes inventory of Liam, who is flushed bright pink and perspiring, with two giant hickeys and a wet spot drying on the front of his trousers.

“We’re going to need something for around your waist,” Louis says. “Here.” He tosses him his sweatshirt and picks up a flute glass and an open bottle of Armand de Brignac, pouring some in. “Carry this with you, anyone will think you’re just drunk.”

It turns out they worried for nothing; the only person outside Louis’ place when they arrive is a socialite who lives next door and is out for a smoke. She pointedly ignores them; he makes a mental note to piss her off somehow later. Liam stands awkwardly against the car with his arms folded as their driver and bodyman carry the luggage in, and Louis surreptitiously tucks his boner into his waistband.

When everyone has said their goodnights and departed, Louis pulls Liam in by the elbow and they stagger to the living room, leaning on each other like drunks and stopping to kiss every couple of feet.

“Let’s get you off now, Louis,” Liam murmurs when he pulls back for a breath.

“Suck me,” Louis says, running his hand through the sides of Liam’s hair, enjoying the feel of how it ripples against his palm. Liam’s big hands haven’t let go of his waist since they closed the door behind them and he’s further aroused by that; it’s taking real effort not to come from the lightest touch.

“Can do,” Liam says, smiling at him. He sits down on the floor and then lies back, seeming to remember that Louis wanted to ride his face.

Louis kneels on either side of him as he pulls off his trousers and then boxers. Liam’s hands find his waist again, then his tummy. Louis pushes them away out of habit.

“Louis,” Liam wheedles. His hands tentatively return to where they were.

“Don't,” Louis warns. “I'm all bloated and ecchh -”

“You’re not,” he says firmly. His thumbs slide gently up and down over the softness of Louis' stomach.

Louis slides forward, ass on Liam's chest and knees beside his head, and hovers forward slightly with a hand on the carpet as he slides his cock into Liam's mouth. Liam accepts it gratefully and begins to suck with need, his hands continuing to hold Louis in place.

“'M not going to last very long,” Louis informs him, rocking into his mouth. He gasps as Liam takes him deeper and moves one hand down to play with his balls. The sound of his mouth is obscene enough to turn Louis on further; you'd think Liam was a man stranded in the desert and Louis was a trickling waterspout. Precome dribbles from him and Liam sucks and licks more eagerly. His beard rubs roughly against the tender skin of Louis’ thighs. Louis closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure, pressing his hands to the floor so he can fuck Liam's mouth better.

Liam lets out a moan from deep in his throat that's strangled by Louis’ presence in his mouth. His fingers dig into Louis’ stomach and arse as Louis rides his face, gasping and groaning until he finally comes. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling with satisfaction, and then settles back, giving Liam some air.

Liam chokes a little on Louis’ come and then looks up at him and swallows it, all of it. Louis’ spent cock twitches as he looks at Liam, his face dark and ruddy and his lips swollen and dribbling with Louis’ come. His eyes are glittering in the low light.

“Good boy, good lad,” Louis says, his breath catching in his throat. “Let me taste myself.”

Liam is up with surprising speed and collects Louis in his arms, kissing him deeply. They sit like that on the floor for a few moments, Louis licking the saltiness of himself off of Liam’s lips and stroking his face.

“You're so good, so good, Liam,” Louis praises him, stroking his broad chest, considering the maleness of it. “Are you hard again?”

Liam draws back a bit to look at him. “Yeah,” he says.

“Good, I want to feel you in me,” Louis says. His voice comes up at the end in a shameless whine, and he squeezes his thighs around Liam's waist. “Wanna be so full of you.”

Liam says nothing but makes a breathy noise and leans in to suck at Louis’ neck. Louis strokes his hair and rolls his hips in his lap, pressing down against his erection.

“You look so good right now,” Liam mumbles, kissing over his collarbone down to his shoulder to suck another hickey there. Louis closes his eyes and enjoys the devoted attention.

“I feel good,” he says, tilting his neck to the side as Liam's hands come up and smooth his hair back and out of the way. Liam presses his lips behind his ear and sucks at the fragile skin there. “Feel so good, Liam, make me feel even better…”

“I want to,” Liam murmurs. “Want to be so deep in you…”

Louis spreads his legs wider on Liam's lap and Liam grunts and then stands up, pulling Louis up with him, an arm around his lower back, and maneuvers them both to the couch. It's awkward and unwieldy, but neither of them care. When Liam is finally seated with Louis in his lap again, they spend another half a minute kissing and moaning into each other's mouths.

Louis is the one to disengage. “We need lube,” he says, rubbing the tip of his nose against Liam's. Liam squints and laughs like it tickles him.

“Oh yeah, right,” he says, and moves to get up, but Louis stops him and gets up himself, moving swiftly into the kitchen and slamming drawers open. He knows he left a bottle in one of them.

Finally he lands on the right drawer and whisks the lube back with him, settling on Liam's lap. Liam has taken his shirt off too now. Louis claps to dim the lights.

“Are you ready?” Liam murmurs, as he takes the lube from Louis.

“Should be,” Louis says. “I fingered myself a little when I was showering on the plane.”

“Mmm,” Liam says. He's gazing at Louis rapturously, eyes half-lidded, lips slightly parted. He looks so deeply in love that Louis feels exposed; he can't hide from this in any way. It spills out of both of them like sunlight.

He begins to finger Louis and Louis adjusts on his lap to make it easier for him. Liam's cock, hard again, is pressed to the underside of his thigh. His own flaccid cock is pressed to Liam's stomach, and despite the lack of bloodflow it still twitches continually with interest as Liam's fingers push deeper into him and brush against his sweet spot.

“Ohh,” Louis gasps. He always manages to forget how strange it feels at first.

Liam nuzzles him in response. “You're kind of tight, Tommo,” he murmurs.

“I know,” Louis says, frustrated. “It's just it's been ages...”

“Can you fit me, do you think? I don't want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, just keep going.”

Liam nods and continues to finger him, sliding another in. Louis grips his shoulders; Liam cups Louis’ face in his free hand, stroking his jaw. Louis tries to move on Liam's fingers to open himself up more.

After several minutes of this and more stroking and kissing, Louis is confident that he can take Liam, and they begin to fumble around with that goal in mind. They become frustrated quickly; they're equally desperate to get Liam into him, but it's easier said than done and they're made clumsy by their own eagerness.

Eventually they realize that Liam is getting too hard for them to keep going like this, unless they want him to come outside of Louis a second time.

“First time I've ever wished you were smaller,” Louis mutters, impatiently fingering himself. “We could go doggy style...”

“No, no,” Liam says, stroking his forearm. “I want to look in your eyes.”

Louis flushes slightly at the sweet, guileless way Liam says that.

“Actually,” he says, remembering something, “I have an idea.”

He gets up and goes upstairs, suddenly aware of all the places on his body marked by Liam's mouth and teeth, the faint ache in his thighs from balancing over Liam's face and the scrape marks on same from Liam's beard. He rifles through drawers loudly and urgently, tossing things to the side. Finally he finds them; two poppers.

He returns downstairs grinning and sharply aching inside for the presence of Liam. Louis settles back on his lap and opens one of the bottles.

“What are these?” Liam says, picking the other one up. His other hand is gripping the underside of Louis’ arse, thumb casually rubbing at Louis’ arsehole. Louis tries to stay focused despite this.

“Poppers,” Louis says. “Stole them off Grimshaw at his last party. Gay blokes snort them and their assholes loosen up and they want get plowed like _crazy_.”

“Excellent,” Liam says, kissing him on the jaw. “Is it safe?”

“Yeah, still legal in the UK, I think,” Louis says, and takes a large snort of one. It's an immediate head rush and he blinks away the spots in his vision. His nose burns and tingles, but it's not quite as bad as doing coke.

It takes about a minute before his muscles start to loosen, with Liam fingering him open in the meantime. Louis grinds against Liam’s lap. “Liam, love, get in,” he begs.

Liam doesn't need to be told twice; he slides his fingers wetly out of Louis and repositions himself under him. Louis has one arm around Liam's neck, holding onto him.

Liam fists his hand at the base of his cock and guides it up into Louis, replacing his fingers. Louis feels the hot stretch of himself immediately and a moan of pleasure comes out of him without him intending.

“Louis, Louis,” Liam groans, sounding frantic with need. Louis rolls his hips so Liam slides deeper inside of him and both of them make obscene noises.

“Are you good?” Liam murmurs, pressing his forehead against Louis' shoulder. Louis gives a shuddering gasp as Liam's cock hits the sweet spot in him.

“Ohhh, yeah,” Louis says. “Oh, lad. So good, so good. God, you're big…”

Liam sucks in some air. His hands are all over Louis; in his hair, on his waist, cupping his jaw and grabbing his arse.

Louis feels incredible. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed this, or how badly he'd been aching for it. He and Liam are temporarily one entity, inextricable from each other. And Louis never feels more secure in Liam's love than when Liam is inside him and still grabbing at him like he might disappear, kissing him and murmuring to him and gazing at him, lovesick.

“Harder, harder,” Louis says to him. Liam’s forehead is pressed to Louis’ cheek as he sucks on his neck and Liam nods slowly and slides back on the couch a bit so he can gyrate his hips more easily. Louis lets out a long moan, slowly, and relishes in hearing Liam gasp in his ear, in feeling Liam’s thighs twitch under him. He feels wonderfully full, and the insistent rub of Liam’s thick cock against that spot inside of him is the only thing he wants to focus on. He grips the fabric of his sofa with one hand and clings to Liam’s shoulders with the other, bearing down on him as much as he can while still bouncing in his lap.

“Louis,” Liam sighs, his fingers slowing and lingering in Louis’ hair.

“Going to come?” Louis says, raking his nails across Liam’s back. Liam shudders again, holding onto Louis more desperately.

“I think so,” Liam says, continuing to roll his hips up against Louis. “Sorry -”

“Don’t apologize, love,” Louis says. His voice is hoarse now and it breaks a little. He laughs. “It’s been a while.”

“And even with the poppers, you’re still…” Liam groans and squeezes his eyes shut. Louis brings a hand up to his face and strokes his jaw. “Still good and tight...”

“Go on, then,” Louis says. “Come and let’s move it upstairs before we ruin my couch.”

Liam laughs breathily and buries his face against Louis’ chest. “Tommo, Tommo…”

Louis begins to ride Liam more forcefully and powerfully than he had been, letting out small noises without meaning to as Liam’s cock presses deeper inside of him.

“Let’s have it, lad,” he murmurs, and then moans again, and Liam bites his lip, which almost always indicates he’s about to come. He does, and Louis clenches with pleasure at knowing he has. They kiss eagerly and sloppily.

Finally Louis moves gingerly off of Liam and stands on wobbly legs. He feels the now-familiar discomfort of semen dribbling down his thighs. Liam, still seated, pulls him close and kisses his stomach, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Liam,” Louis says, uncomfortable. He tries to slide his hands between Liam’s face and his body and Liam gently takes his wrists and holds them together behind his back, then looks up at him, doe-eyed.

Louis sighs.

“You’re perfect,” Liam insists.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Louis replies.

 

/

 

Up in his bedroom overlooking London they settle down in his massive, comfortable bed together, stroking each other and wallowing in the warmth and sweatiness of their bodies and the freely flowing oxytocin. Louis is starting to get hard again, and there’s a niggling ache inside of him for Liam’s cock to return to where it was.

But they’ve got to wait for Liam to get hard again, too, so Louis indulges the lazy side of himself and just lies on his back while Liam kisses him all over. He starts at Louis’ lower thighs and works his way up, making Louis gasp and writhe against the sheets when he starts licking at Louis’ taint, dangerously near both his cock and his asshole.

“Ohhh, Payno,” he murmurs, continuing to run his hands through Liam’s hair.

“Hey there,” Liam says, smiling and running a hand over the curve of his waist. He kisses under Louis’ belly button. Louis tenses up again without meaning to.

“Love,” Liam says softly. “It’s alright.”

Louis closes his eyes and nods. Liam is the only person he knows who understands, so he slides his hands over Liam’s shoulders and allows him to nuzzle his bearded face against his stomach and kiss him there.

Liam loves him so much, every inch of him, it’s so clear to him and so befuddling. He lingers on the arc of Louis’ hipbone and the gentle plane where his lower back flares out into his ass, his ribcage and his lat muscles and his nipples. Louis is never sure what to do in return, so he just runs his hands all over Liam encouragingly, strokes his face, pulls him closer.

Liam's erection starts to return, and Louis strokes it and plays with it encouragingly as they kiss and cuddle. “There's something I’d like to do,” he murmurs against Liam's neck.

“What's that, Tommo?”

Louis rolls over and pulls open his bedside table drawer. In it is a pair of soft handcuffs that he removes and hands to Liam.

“I'd like you to wear these while I ride you cowgirl,” Louis says. “Er… cowboy.”

“Right,” Liam says, sounding interested. “I couldn't touch you, though...”

“It makes it hotter. You can touch me all you like afterwards.”

He watches as Liam considers it. His hand is wrapped around Louis' forearm, and his thumb moves gently back and forth. “Banana,” he finally says.

“What?”

“If I say banana, you’ve got to untie me,” Liam says. He rolls onto his back against the sheets and looks pliantly at Louis, stretching his arms up over his head.

Louis leans forward, his small hands working quickly to restrain Liam to the headboard. Liam tilts his head up and kisses Louis’ ribcage. Louis sits back so Liam’s cock is under him. Liam watches him with dark, interested eyes.

“Make me scream,” Louis says sweetly, and rolls his hips.

“Fuck, fuck,” Liam says, his voice low and throaty. He tips his head back and blows out a breath, his hands jingling in the cuffs. “I will.”

Louis lubes himself up again, finding it very easy this time to slip three and even four fingers in. He thinks of how he could, with a little work, fit an entire hand in, and he shudders with some combination of delight and discomfort. He feels his heart vigorously pounding blood into his cock and he wonders if he might come with Liam still inside of him. The thought makes him even harder. He squeezes his eyes shut as he fingers himself, imagining his come splattering across Liam’s belly and chest.

“Louis,” Liam says. He sounds strained. Louis opens his eyes and looks at him. His face is red.

“You’re not going to come now, are you?” Louis says, straightening up in his lap. He leans forward, one hand on the bed and the other on Liam’s cock, and starts guiding him in. Liam is rock hard.

“I hope not,” Liam says, squirming under Louis.

“ _God_ ,” Louis says, with relish. “You’re so pent up. I bet you could fuck me all night.”

“If my muscles held out,” Liam says, with a breathy laugh. “Louis, love, I want to touch you…”

Louis lets out a soft sigh as he gets Liam fully in and sits back on him. “Soon, soon. Ah, fuck… God...”

Louis is struck by how attracted he is to Liam as he begins to ride him while watching his face. His dark lashes that fan out when he shuts his eyes, how red his cheeks and parted lips are. His boyish Beckham handsomeness, the way he’s obviously absolutely undone by Louis, taken apart at the seams by him.

Louis leans forward slightly and sighs deeply in satisfaction at feeling Liam’s thick cock rubbing resolutely against that wonderful spot inside of him. “Ohhh,” he gasps. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Liam bucks his hips up into Louis and Louis moans, grabbing onto his hips to keep steady. He starts to really ride Liam, bouncing on him, enjoying feeling how split open he is by him. His arse is already tender; tomorrow, he’s not going to be able to walk without feeling Liam’s presence. He’s going to think about it all day as he watches Liam go about his business, half wishing he was still inside of him. He loves knowing that.

“You look so good,” Liam says, breathing heavily. “God, Louis.”

Louis runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and he makes eye contact with Liam as he slows his pace, languorously stretching out his movement on Liam’s cock. 

Liam’s eyes shut again. “God,” he repeats. “Fuck.”

“Want to touch me?” Louis says, grinning wickedly. “Want to grab my arse?”

“So bad, so bad.”

“Want to touch my cock?” He’s leaking precome on Liam’s stomach as he speaks. “Want to feel how hard I am from being full of you?”

“Ohhh, Louis… Christ…”

“Want to feel where you fit inside me?”

He reaches down and strokes the very base of Liam’s cock with the tips of his fingers. At that Liam’s hips jerk up again. Louis feels himself clench around Liam, and he gasps and moans.

“I can’t, I can’t,” Liam suddenly blurts out, and his hands jingle in the cuffs again. “Banana. Banana.”

“Liam,” Louis says, panting, surprised. “Why?”

He leans forward to undo them and as soon as Liam’s free, he rolls Louis over onto his back and starts fucking him powerfully, so hard the mattress moves back and forth by inches. He puts a hand on Louis’ collarbone and presses him down against the bed, his thumb resting gently on Louis’ throat. Louis slides a hand into Liam’s hair and stares at him rapturously as he’s moved up and down on the sheets by the force of being fucked.

“You were teasing me a little too much, Louis,” Liam rasps.

“Ohhhh,” Louis moans. “Fuck, God, fuck. Fuck me, fuck me.”

“I am,” Liam murmurs, sliding an arm underneath Louis’ shoulders and grabbing a greedy handful of Louis’ arse with the other hand. Louis brings his legs up and spreads them further so Liam has a better angle on him.

“Harder, harder, harder,” Louis begs him. Liam obliges and Louis lets out a cry, raking his nails down Liam’s back. Liam sucks in air through his teeth and sinks his own nails into Louis’ shoulder. Louis moans with pleasure at the sting and rests his face against the crook of Liam’s neck, nuzzling him as Liam fucks the sense out of him. He feels himself fading out in the grips of extreme pleasure, losing his thought processes and being left only with sensation. He hears himself as if from a distance, his pornographically lustful and feminine little noises of arousal and satisfaction. He feels his cock, pressed between them, continuing to leak precome, but he doesn’t think he can come without touching himself and he doesn’t want to move his arm from where it’s wrapped around Liam, doesn't want to stop clawing at his back. He doesn’t want to move at all. He could lie here being fucked by Liam forever, he thinks. He needs him deeper and deeper and deeper, and tells him so.

Finally Liam murmurs to him that he’s going to come, and paradoxically though Louis doesn’t want him to stop, he does want him to come.

“Come in me, Liam, go on,” Louis whispers in his ear, then kisses his jaw, and Liam groans. A few moments later he says _oh fuck, fuck, Louis_ and Louis knows it’s happened, and then feels Liam soften inside of him. He kisses his face desperately and then Liam turns and kisses him back on the lips, and takes Louis’ jaw in his hand.

“You’re so perfect,” Liam says softly.

“You keep saying that.”

“You are. I couldn’t do that with anybody else.”

“Do what?”

Liam is quiet as he rolls them onto their sides, still inside of Louis, and starts getting handsy with him, stroking his thighs and running his hand through Louis’ hair even though it’s damp with sweat. “Dunno. Trust them to understand what I needed,” he says.

Louis strokes Liam’s face. “I think I know what you mean.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Liam says. “Christ, it’s awful.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah, we’re right fucked, Payno.”

“We don’t have to talk about it right this moment,” Liam says. “We’ve got time.”

“That is one thing we’ve suddenly got,” Louis says.

He takes Liam's hand and guides it to his own cock, which is still hard.

“Didn't get enough?” Liam says.

“Never enough,” Louis sings. Liam laughs. The two of them have come to see that song as a love anthem to each other and to the music industry; long before they got together, Louis found himself thinking of Liam while recording it.

Liam meets his eyes. “What d’you want?” he says, like anything in the world is on offer.

Louis makes a noise deep in his vocal cords like a purr, and slides closer to Liam. He slips his hand down between them and parts Liam's thighs, then slides his cock in between them.

“What's this?” Liam says, curious.

Louis moves him onto his back. Liam looks up at him.

“Squeeze your thighs together on me,” Louis says.

Liam does and Louis sighs in satisfaction, his cock throbbing.

“I've never done this,” Liam says, playing with Louis’ tip. “Must feel good.”

“Neither have I,” Louis says, starting to move back and forth. Liam diligently keeps his thighs tight together, watching Louis lovingly. “Yeah, it's nice.”

“You been like, researching the things gay blokes do?” Liam says, lying back against the bed. He's a little breathy and smiley, like he's enjoying just having Louis’ hard cock rubbing on him. “I've been, too. I thought they rubbed their dicks together more, but I guess that isn't really a thing.”

“They did that in a porn I watched,” Louis says, breathing hard. The tight pressure of Liam's thighs has him very close already. His chest is warm and tight at the anticipation of being able to come all over Liam's chest and throat, which Liam will inevitably respond to with only pleasure. A month or so ago he told Liam he wanted to come on his face and was invited to go ahead; Louis can't forget the sight of Liam smiling at him, wiping his face and then licking his come off of his fingers. He jerked off to that image for weeks.

“Did they actually like it?”

“Dunno. Hard to tell sometimes.”

“I'd be up to maybe watch some together sometime, like foreplay,” Liam says. He holds up a hand and Louis pauses, hand on Liam's knee, panting and leaking precome. Liam scratches an itch on his leg and settles back.

“Guys and girls or guys and guys? Girls and girls?”

Liam shrugs. “Whatever you like, but I think guys and guys could give us more ideas.”

“Yeah, that's where I got this from,” Louis says, and moans as his cock throbs more insistently. “I'm almost there...”

“Let me touch you, then,” Liam says, parting his thighs. There's pink marks on the insides. Louis leans forward as Liam takes his cock and starts jerking him with practiced hands.

“Ohhh, Payno,” Louis gasps, “good, you're so good…”

“Always, Tommo…”

He comes on him a few moments later, mostly on his hands and chest. Liam sucks come off of the skin between his thumb and index finger and looks up at Louis. Louis groans and grabs him around the back of the neck, kissing him. They fall against the bed together, sticky with each other's semen.

Louis presses a finger gently to Liam's arsehole and rubs ever so slightly. Liam inhales.

Louis takes it away. “So when do I get to fuck you?”

“I'm not sure I'll enjoy it like you do,” Liam admits, stroking Louis’ arm with his thumb.

“Oh, come off it.”

“We can give it a try,” Liam murmurs, nuzzling him. “Maybe on my birthday.”

“Maybe sooner,” Louis says, kissing him on the forehead.

Liam presses his nose to Louis’ hairline and breathes in deeply. “You smell so good.”

“Yeah? Sweat, semen, and shampoo?”

“And your cologne,” Liam says. “All that together. I love that.”

“Ahhh, I see, so he's absolutely lost the plot,” Louis says, and Liam laughs.

 

/

 

They shower quickly before bed and, exhausted, turn in without drying off very much. They're kept warm by each other's bodies and the big comforter Louis drags out from the closet. Louis hasn't felt as peaceful in ages as he does dozing off in Liam's arms, sedated by orgasms and Liam's sweet way with him. Louis has been loved by many people, sometimes badly and sometimes very well, but no one is as steady and comforting as Liam.

He wakes the next morning to a torrential rainstorm, which is perfect as neither of them have got any plans. Louis lies there very still for a while, not wanting to wake Liam and enjoying watching the rain pound at his windows. Liam snores softly in his ear.

Louis finally gets up and finds his cigarettes, then cracks a window and sits in his robe smoking and staring out over the rooftops into the foggy horizon. People who found out he’s back in London from the Heathrow photos have been texting him all night. He scrolls through his phone.

 

_know this bird u shud meet xx she needs the tommo touch. if yr not cuffed that is? txt me_

 

_Come out to C London tonite and pay to get me n the boys drunk? Cheers_

 

_Lou!! Youre back in town its been ages :) would you like to meet up?_

 

He slides it back into his pocket. He’d like to go out, but he’s tired of dodging questions about why he’s not pulling or why he seems distant. The press and his friends and even his sisters have grown to assume he’s dating some random girl; he lets them think so, smiles and smiles and says nothing.

And he’s tired of not being able to bring Liam everywhere; of them suddenly having to calculate how often they should be seen together and how often apart. They couldn’t even spend the majority of Valentine’s Day together a few months earlier, which was a laugh to Louis considering they had spent it together in 2015 as just friends. That evening, they took separate cars out to Liam’s place in the country and Louis drank quite a lot of absinthe and fell asleep on top of some roses before they could have sex. When he woke up, he was covered in a blanket and Liam was resting a hand on his leg, sitting next to him peacefully and stoking the fireplace.

They can’t go out tonight; Louis knows this. He looks down at his thighs and notices the fingermarks and beard burn and hickeys that trail from down there on upward.

He opens the front-facing camera on his phone and examines his neck, which is even worse. Louis feels warm and pleased, though, looking at all of the marks on it, all of the places Liam sucked on him.

Louis comes back over to Liam and kneels on the bed next to him, stroking his bearded jaw. Liam blinks himself awake, groaning and stretching. He’s as marked up as Louis is, Louis notes with pride.

“What time is it?”

“Round nine thirty.”

“Oh?” Liam says. “Feels so much later. We should go back to sleep.”

“We could,” Louis says.

Liam grabs him around the waist and pulls him close. He smiles.

“Listen, Payno,” he says.

“What’s up?” Liam says. “Also, how hard did you rake my back last night, you absolute bobcat?”

“Let me look,” Louis says, leaning over him. “Ohhhh, that is pretty bad. Sorry, lad.”

“There are worse injuries to have,” Liam says stoically. “What were you going to say?”

“Well,” Louis says, settling back next to him, head against the pillow. He starts stroking gentle circles on Liam’s arm. Liam watches him, brow tense.

“Next week I’m going to go see my mum,” he begins.

“Alright… d’you want me to come, or?”

Louis bites his lip. “Think I should go alone.”

Liam scans his face. “Oh,” he says. “You’re going to tell her.”

“I’m going to give it a shot,” he says. “See what kind of mood she’s in first.”

“Louis…” Liam hesitates. “That’s a big step.”

“Well,” Louis says. “We haven’t gotten anywhere we are by being shy. Why start now, y’know?”

“Of course I think you’re right to do it,” Liam says. “I just don’t want you rushing into it before you’re ready.”

“I’ll think on it the next few days,” Louis says. “It’s been six months, alright? Niall said I need to tell her, specifically, and he's right.”

Liam nods slowly and he leans back against the pillows. He rests his hands on his diaphragm. “Yeah,” he says, finally. “I think so too.”

“After her, I was going to, um,” Louis says. “I was going to go and tell Eleanor. In person.”

Liam’s expression changes. “Tell Eleanor? Why?”

“Because...” Louis sighs. “There are some things she should hear from me before she hears them somewhere else.”

Liam pulls Louis closer, sliding a hand over the small of his back. Louis nuzzles into his collarbone.

“I understand,” Liam says. “I don't want to seem like I'm against it, I'm not. It's just terrifying.”

“I know,” Louis says softly, sliding his hand over Liam's chest.

Liam is quiet for a few moments. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey, love.”

“This is a topic swerve, but I’ve just been thinking about it. When you kissed me… that first time… it sort of seemed like you'd planned on it.”

Louis clears his throat. “I'd say more I had been thinking about it.”

“Yeah, but what got you to that point? For me, quite honestly, I think you could have kissed me any time that year and I would have reciprocated. But you're the one who actually acts on things. You pick things up from me and you, y’know, make them real, like when we're writing. And we were sort of going back and forth a bit and we were flirting but nothing happened, and then suddenly you kissed me. So what changed?”

Louis sits up so he can look into Liam's eyes properly. They hold onto each other, gently.

“Ahh,” he says. “This might sound a bit dumb.”

Liam’s gaze flicks over him. “Try me.”

“You were just really good to me,” Louis says. “It took me a long time to figure out. I was rather stupid, admittedly. But you were just kind to me and patient when I needed it and you loved me, and you were there every single night and I knew you wouldn't leave, and I could trust you with all of these awful insecurities and fears and you just took them off my hands... Oh, fuck, it sounds so stupid like that. I just got so attached to every part of you, it sort of didn't matter you weren’t a girl, you know? Like if you were a girl we would have boffed ages ago and it wouldn't have even been such an emotional ordeal. Like I would have laid you right when we met.”

Liam laughs loudly. “As if I'd have stood for it! You were a twerp!”

“Well, _anyway_ ,” Louis says, dramatically. “So then it sort of started to matter because I’d go out and pull and it felt hollow. I realized I could be with any girl and at the end of it I’d really just want to be in your hotel room with you, lying around with you and talking about our songs… and ah, cuddling with you. Touching you. Which was a sort of queasy thing to realize. But I came around to it eventually. You just made me feel good, in all ways. And I don't know, there were moments on stage or whatever where… you’d like, drag me around or grab onto me, y’know, and I might have had some dirty thoughts.”

“I knew it,” Liam crows.

“So,” Louis continues. “I knew you sort of had the same stuff going on, but I wasn't completely sure. So I kissed you because I was high so that was an alibi, and if you got after me about it the next day I could say I was having a laugh or I was gorked out on molly or whatever.”

“Very romantic stuff, Tommo,” says Liam, but he's smiling.

“Yeah, well. Save that for the music.”

Liam adjusts the pillows and holds the sheet and comforter up so Louis can get under them. Louis does, and presses the lengths of their bodies together, even down to their feet. He lies his head against Liam's hairy chest and takes in a deep breath, getting the scent of him. It soothes him.

“Just remember,” Liam says, stroking his hair. “You don't owe people anything you can’t give.”

“I think I said that to _you_.”

“You did. It was when we had to cancel that concert. And you were right.”

“I'll remember,” Louis murmurs.

They fall asleep listening to each other breathe.

 


End file.
